


His Slytherin Descendants

by Dark_Cyan_Star



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bad Spelling & Grammar, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Hidden Talents, POV First Person, Possessive Behavior, Squibs, Two Shot, repost
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-01-17
Updated: 2005-01-17
Packaged: 2018-05-14 13:22:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 20,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5745418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dark_Cyan_Star/pseuds/Dark_Cyan_Star
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>OLD REPOST: I am known as Harrison Black-Riddle. My life is completely unfulfilling and I find myself craving my father's attention after he returns from his fourteen-year absence. My fraternal twin, Damon, is truly the ideal Slytherin heir. Merlin, no, I’m not particularly like Salazar Slytherin. No, I strive to be just like Severus Snape. Oh—and I'm a Squib—but not really.</p><p>Voldemort knew I was starved for words of affection and he used it to his advantage. I don’t know why, but I felt this warmth creep through me when I heard his whispered confession. “You look strikingly like me when I was younger."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> !  
> .  
> .  
>  WARNING: Another Repost. Completed, but not edited or altered in anyway.
> 
> This two shot- and AU. This next chapter is just Voldemort's point of view. Same story line. No Slash- nothing really besides for the occasional reference of emotional child abuse.

**His Slytherin Descendants**

I'm fourteen years old.

And I'm also the son of Tom Marvolo Riddle and Bellatrix Black.

I hate my life. My existence is for the sole purpose of passing down the Slytherin legacy and traits. My  _mother_ thinks it was about love and favor, but I know better. Tom Riddle fucked her because she was the only loyal female Death Eater in his circle that would carry his twisted seed. He used her, just like he's going to use us all over again when he comes back into power.

I look over my book in the dark corner at Bellatrix and Damon,  _my twin brother._ How lucky I am to share my burden with someone the same age as myself. But it's quite the opposite. Bellatrix favors him. I don't really care though, considering she has sturdy reasons to like Damon more than she likes me.

For one thing Damon has the looks of a Slytherin heir; dark black hair, lightly bronzed skin, black eyes, and sharper teeth than the normal person. Not to mention he's tall and burly at the ripe age of fourteen.

Me on the other hand? I have light auburn hair that shines bronze in the sun, pale skin, and light green eyes. My statue is petite with cheek bones that stick out noticeable along with an Adams apple. My mother says my eyes come from the pits of hell and my hair comes from my muggle grandfather that my father had killed; that made me feel special.

Any way, we aren't exactly twins…. fraternal twins if you're slow like I supposedly am.

You might think that having a thin frame and green eyes  _is_ Slytherin, but trust me. I looked my ancestor up and Damon looks like his identical twin, save for the goatee that hasn't made its way on the baby face.

But even if I did look like my brother, I would still be invisible to Bellatrix. Why? I'm a Squib. Or at least, that's what everyone thinks. I'm not though, I'm quite powerful on my own accord, I read books like they were a cookie recipe for children and I practice 'silly wand waving' at night when my mother and brother are sleeping.

I can't help the fact that I'm a very private person. I never like the small gatherings Bellatrix holds with the rest of the awaiting Death Eaters. I always hide myself in the library or my small room.

You see, Damon is a very confidant person. Don't get me wrong- I am too, but he's a public confidant. Arrogant, snobbish, very full of himself when he knows his father is the Dark Lord of Slytherin.

When I was younger, Bellatrix looked down at me with a curl on her lip as a Healer declared I was a Squib. Ever since that day she has never looked at me in the eye again. The only reason she keeps me around is to have the Dark Lord, my father, dispose of me for fun when he gets back.

That's my guess at least.

And he will be coming into power shortly. Those whispers and jumpy auras are enough to scream 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named' is finally coming back. But I'm not worried about good old papa. If it is Fate's hand who takes my life, I will not complain; although I have my own plan if I have a chance to escape.

Why must I have an escape route? Well, Bellatrix delightfully raised Damon and I, and bred us to be the best we can when the Dark Lord comes back around. You see, Slytherin power only passes down to the real heir. True my twin and I are both descendants, but only one of us holds the power. And whoever that is, Voldemort will take as his right hand man, his heir.

Not that he needs any heir with all the Horcruxes he has in his power… but I've come to terms that Damon is the true heir. He will be pledged into our  _father's_ circle and I will be invisible once again if I haven't already been killed for being a 'Squib'.

But- no bragging intended- I  _am_ powerful. I know I am. I can duel faster than my brother, and do spells well advanced past seventh year. I know I can be better if I didn't have to do it in the cloak of night.

But again, I  _know_  Damon is the Slytherin heir. How couldn't he be? He's everything arrogant as his father.

Oh, and don't get me started on how much everyone praises the man. Voldemort is powerful, I'll give him that. But the man is bloody insane.

"Come now, my sweet." Bellatrix cooed at Damon from his elbow. "Try harder."

I looked over my book again at the two and held in a smirk of satisfaction. Damon was trying to talk to the serpent in front of him. Of course, even if you practiced day and night your whole life, you just don't suddenly acquire the born talent of Parseltongue.

Oh- did I mention  _I_  can talk to snakes? Of course, I keep that certain bit of information secret also.

I'm sure your doubting the fact that I'm  _not_ the Slytherin heir, but really, I'm always right. Damon is the heir. Plus, I don't think I can be the heir with my father. That job requires being by the man's side day and night. I told you I'm private… he would be overbearing. Or so I tell myself that.

I know this is off topic- but… my name is Harrison Black-Riddle.

"He'll be here soon." Damon whispered harshly, glaring at the snake with those Slytherin eyes of his.

Bellatrix sniffed and patted the boy's shoulder. "He won't matter too much, Damon. After all, you are his heir." She threw a disgusted glance in my direction, but I paid no heed. I was thinking about what Damon had stated about our father coming soon.

He was probably coming back with the means of the whole Twi-Wizard tournament. Neville Longbottom, the boy-who-lived, was submitted into the tournament by Barty Crouch Jr. It was a clever plan, but a little too public for my tastes.

But who is asking me?

A part of me wished I could've gone to Hogwarts with children my own age. I know I'm much more mature then them, but things get a little lonely around the cold manor. I can't talk to my mother, or brother, or snakes for that matter. It would be fun to watch the drama of teenage witches and wizards. The only thing close to drama that I've seen is when Draco Malfoy comes over on some occasions and he and my brother get loose lips and brag arrogantly with each other.

I guess that's my weakness… I crave for touch of affection or whispered words I see my mother give Damon. I crave for something I can never have, and that's why my heart is slowly turning into stone.

But again… isn't that what I was born to be? A heartless monster? I took my book and headed out of the library without  _them_  even noticing.

I never did feel the manor's occupant's eyes on me. Their forked tongue flicked out affectionately after me.

**\--Slytherin--**

I was sitting in the living room of the small manor my father gave as a safe house to my mother while she was pregnant. His grandparents and father's old manor. All around me Death Eater's were pacing restlessly, looking at each other from underneath those white masks of theirs.

My brother… or lack of- was sitting proudly with his hood down, basking in the stares that some Death Eater's sent his way. I was sitting in the corner chair with my hood up, stiff and ready to pounce on anyone who attacked. Maybe if I didn't own just this one ratty black, hooded cloak, I might be wearing something of rich material… considering my father has just come back into existence.

Yes, that's right. He was reborn again last night. It's now early morning, and the dark side is pacing restlessly around our manor. How boring… I wished I had my novel with me. I was currently reading a good book titled 'The Woos of Lady Death' It sounded like a romance novel, true, but it was about the different runes and sacrifices a dark wizard could use for multiple of things. I had my eye on one- one that would remove my heritage and make me just Harrison. Blonde hair and blue eyes, or maybe I would have yellow eyes and red hair. It would be interesting on how it would work.

I let my eyes wander under my hood at the occupants in Bellatrix's house. The Malfoy's were all here, laughing in delight with neighboring Death Eater's, Bellatrix was sitting near Damon with a crazed smile upon her face, and Snape was sulking in the corner opposite of me. That man always interested me. He reminded me of myself. Hopefully I would turn out as a potions master with an unknown past. Everyone would be afraid to dig deeper into my life…

I could find someone… and maybe  _love_ them, if I wasn't already too far way from that emotion… and I could go to Hogwarts.

Speaking of Hogwarts, Neville Longbottom got away. Pathetic, I know. My own Dark Lord of a father couldn't even kill a fourteen year old Gryffindor. I know exactly what happened. He was bragging to his Death Eaters how easy it was to kill the Boy-Who-Lived, that he became arrogant.

Proof that Damon was the true heir, not me. I would've just skinned the boy as soon as my eyes met his.

At the moment, Voldemort was in the other room, seeing a skilled Healer from the Dark Side.

My attention swept toward Snape who gazed across the room with the same eyes as my mother and Damon shared. I hated those eyes. I heard my father had black eyes before he turned them crimson.

Did I mention I hate my life? I think I have, but in case you have forgotten already.

The potions master gave a short nod in greeting and respect. I almost blinked in surprise. He'd never done that to Damon before. Speaking of my brother, I could hear him laughing at something Draco mentioned.

What should I do? I've never looked at Pureblood or even Dark heritage's traditions in greetings or anything of the sort. Part of me wanted to pull up my middle finger and flip him off like the rest of the people in the room.

Instead I gave a short nod in return and kept my gaze on the man. He couldn't see my face under the hood, but somehow he knew it was me. It only made my interest in him heighten.

My mind swept to stone as soon as the Dark Lord's door opened. And I finally met the sight of my father.

He was ugly.

That was the first thing that came through my head, but soon after, came his strong aura and frightening air that sent goosebumps down everyone's skin. He… was amazing. Now  _this_ was an ideal Slytherin heir.

He might have pale and scaly skin with no nose or hair, but the man was powerful, and unfortunately, power drove people in society. His crimson eyes surveyed the room, passing my form briefly and moving on as if I were nothing to him. He probably didn't even know he had children.

"My followers." He whispered huskily, waving a hand with long, yellow fingernails. "We are finally together once again and we will rise to power just as I have tonight. Longbottom might've gotten away from me, but he will not get away next time. Together we will bring the wizarding world where it was meant to be."

Bellatrix made her way over to his left side where a child bearing woman belonged. I thought I saw Voldemort grimace, but in an instant his face was carved out of stone. Nothing showed on his face. I wondered what was going through that mind.

People all around me dropped to their knees with excited murmurs and praises. I guess I should follow them considering I don't want  _his_ attention on me.

When I was on my knees my mind began to run again. Why didn't I want my father's attention? I craved for it since I was a little boy… hoping to impress my male guardian so he'd  _love_ me. How foolish of me… Now look at me, my head is bowed away from his gaze and I'm huddled into the darkest corner of the room.

Nothing new there.

I decided then, on my knees, that I would have to leave this place soon. My father would never look at me special- I had better luck with the guards at Azkaban. But most importantly, I was smart enough to know I was young and thus had a long life in front of me. I couldn't throw it away so easily.

And then the thought of Dumbledore entered my mind. I hated that old fool, I knew he used manipulation on his closest puppets, but then again, he wouldn't look down on me for being private or a green-eyed boy.

Sorry, I ramble in my own head. I guess its because I'm the only one I could talk to while growing up. I'm not in self-pity, mind you, I am good company once you get to know me. A little sarcastic and cynical, but otherwise,… ok company. Not super or anything…

"It has been a long day, my followers. I must retire and so must you. I would like for you to keep my rise to power secret on my behalf. Let me gather my strength and we will strike with full force."

Let him gather his strength? I changed my plan of running to Dumbledore… after all I  _am_  a full Slytherin. I don't want to get killed. Maybe Snape had a few potion shacks out of the country. I've always wanted to visit Greece.

"Yes M'lord." Chants swept eagerly through the crowd, sending shivers down my back.

Or then again, maybe somewhere farther away from here, like Japan.

I looked up slightly and watched as Voldemort swept toward the room he had just entered from. Bellatrix gave a whine like a pathetic dog and started off after him. I gave a dark chuckle as the door slammed in her face.

My cursed green eyes swept over toward Damon to see a frown of disappointment on his face. That must have been a blow to his ego, never once had he been ignored. Welcome to my bloody life, brother dearest. I'm sure Bellatrix is used to it from long ago, but she's too dim-witted to realize she's being manipulated.

The Death Eaters started to move out and I stood along with them. I wasn't going to get in the middle of their hissy fit. I noticed Snape fall back near me. It wouldn't be an odd sight, but considering he's the one that always runs out of here first, it was unnatural.

We stepped out of the warm chamber and out in the brisk early morning. My small room and precious library was across the grounds toward the cemetery. The other plus side? It was far from Damon's room and Bellatrix's. But even if I was at a distance, I still had to keep a low profile considering the two might come to the library for a little studying.

"My lord?" Snape whispered to me and I literally stopped in my tracks, glaring at him underneath my hood.

"I'm not your lord, Snape." My head snapped toward his direction, which was unfortunately toward the blowing wind. The breeze played with my hood, revealing my features and messy bronze hair.

He was surprised at my appearance, which made me even more peeved. He hid his surprise well, but I could see his black eyes spark.

"Of course, if you insist." His voice was so dry, I loved it. Mine on the other hand was a raspy whisper… considering I hadn't used a proper sentence since the age of three. Well, save for the endless speeches in my own head.

I watched blankly as he crossed his arms across his chest and looked down at me with his crooked nose. I even like his nose.

The man was just a puzzle that I would love to sit down with and solve. I loved puzzles, and riddles, and anything that challenged me for more than an hour.

I'm pathetic, aren't I? Maybe twisted because of my upraising, but then again, I can't blame everything on my dark past.

"Is there something you wanted? I must get going." I didn't have anywhere in particular, and I  _wanted_ to see more of this man, but I was uncomfortable with talking to anyone but myself.

Those black eyes looked through me and I repressed a smirk. I was an Occlumencer, and he was a Legilimencer. We didn't mix in the slightest.

"I'm sure you are busy." There was that dry tone of his, almost sarcastic. My eyes narrowed slightly…  _I_ was the king of sarcasm.

"I happen to notice you aren't very close with your mother or brother, and am curious as to your relationship with them." I schooled my features perfectly, not even a crease in my pale skin appeared. But inside- locked behind my Occlumency- I was shocked.

How dare him step this close to my private life? He obviously underestimated me for my age. "I am as close as a Slytherin family can be, Snape. We sit down for crumpets and tea in the after noon, while in the bath of the silver light we share our deepest secrets." I laced as much sarcasm as I could with composing my face not to move, save for my lips.

I watched his lip twitch upward. "I'm sure. No matter, if you do not wish to tell me, I  _am_ skilled in Legilimency and your brother isn't skilled in Occlumency." I knew my brother would ruin everything…

"And let me tell you, he holds you slightly higher than the rubbish he recently deposed of, if not the same."

"It doesn't surprise me." That's all I'm going to say. Really… I'm  _not_ starved for attention like my brother is.

"And your mother is very interested in telling the Dark Lord of you existence, can you possibly wonder why?" His eyebrows rose toward his high forehead, and I watched in boredom as a piece of black hair from his greasy head started to flutter in the wind.

"Of course. I am his son after all." I followed Snape's movement and crossed my arms in front of my small body. "Really, Snape, I have no idea why you would want to dig this deep into my life. Especially the life of a Slytherin, it's not healthy for you." I paused, my voice caught in my throat from the disuse. "Unless you're trying to tell me something I don't already know about my life?"

The Death Eaters were already gone now, leaving the two of us to stand between a few headstones. I bet Bellatrix and Damon were still waiting outside of Voldemort's room like good servants did.

A curl from Snape's upper lip caught my attention. How could the man have so few face expressions, yet each one was fascinating to watch?

"It's because you're  _claimed_  as a Squib." The way he said 'claimed' made me realize he knew I wasn't a Squib.

"How did you know?" I hissed, dropping my mask and stepping closer to him.

"Simply because  _I_ was the one who claimed you as a Squib when you were younger." Everything froze within me. I once read a book about a boy whose heart stopped from shock. I could never understand why someone could have such emotion as the little boy. But now I did.

I withdrew from him, intent to continue on to my sanctuary. A strong hand grasped my thin arm and jerked me toward Snape's tall form. "I did it for your own good. For  _our_ own good."

I stared at his hand on my arm in horror.  _No one_ had ever touched me. Seeing my expression, the man dropped my arm and clenched his teeth together.

Stop- rewind- what the bloody hell did he say?

"I don't understand." I hissed like the Slytherin descendant I was. "Why would you declare me a Squib? For whose own good?"

"I knew you were going to end up like your brother if I hadn't declared you a Squib. Is that the way you want to be? Arrogant and so big-headed that everything slips your notice? I watched you today, you are observant and ready… you're like a serpent ready to attack." I would've snorted at the analogy, but I kept it inside, intent to listen to the man's crazy ideas.

"I picked you because you seemed more powerful, more Slytherin than Damon. I knew you would be strong and determined to show everyone when you got older. Harrison,  _you_ are the heir of Slytherin."

The wind was playing with my hair, sending bronzed strands into my eyes. I just looked at him blankly. "I did this for you and the rest of the world. If Damon were to be named heir, he will destroy the dark side from the inside out. He may be powerful, but he's not a Slytherin. If you were to be heir to your father, at least you would have some dignity and smarts about you."

Even if it sounded ludicrous, I understood why he did what he did. If he hadn't named me Squib I would've ended up like Damon. And just the thought of that made my stomach churn. The price for having a good head on my shoulders was the loss of motherly love and affection. Snape knew all this were to happen to me, he knew I would mature quickly before my father came into power.

If two powerful Slytherin descendants were to have the personality that Damon had, then the wizarding world would be non-existent.

"That's a good theory." I replied breathlessly, admiring Snape more and more, but not showing it in the least. "But unfortunately neither you nor I choose who is named Slytherin heir. That duty lands on my father's shoulders, and from where I'm sitting, Damon makes the perfect candidate."

If I really wanted my father to notice I was a strong wizard, I could go up to him like Damon would and complain to him how mother dearest treated me unfairly and I really am not a Squib. But I'm not like that. I like people to figure out themselves what is in front of them.

"Then come to the Light side with me. They can use your help." My eyes narrowed. I smelt manipulation.

The wind became stronger and my cloak fluttered dramatically. "Is this what it's about, Snape? Are you really on the Light side and planned this out since day one? Or was it Dumbledore's plan? To twist me into your own pawn and use me against my father? Comfort me when I'm at my lowest point and offer me what I always craved?"

Snape looked at me with satisfaction and pleasure. I was uncomfortable underneath that stare of his. "It seems that way, yes." Was all he said, silently applauding me on my instincts.

"What side are you on?" I asked softly, seeing a figure stand in the doorway to my father's manor. It could've been Voldemort himself, Bellatrix, or even Damon. It was too hard to see from here.

"Honestly? I'm on your side. In between- grey." I allowed myself to smile at that. Did I mention I  _really_ adored Snape? A real Slytherin. "But if I were to pick I would have to say the Dark side."

I stood still for a few minutes, watching the figure stare down at us from the doorway. "Have you ever heard of the book The Woos of Lady Death?" At seeing the man give a short nod, I continued. "The ritual of the  _Dark Descendants_?"

I watched Snape's eyes widen in surprise and suspicion. "You wish to denounce your Slytherin traits?"

"No." I replied simply, giving a large smirk. "I want to erase Riddle and Black from my blood, become my own breed. I will have no anchors to my father or my mother. I keep my powers, but my father can't bind me to himself. It's not like he would want to either." I replied bitterly as an after thought, getting slightly irritated as the shadow from the manor came out of the light and moved toward us slowly.

"What are you asking me?" Snape asked, turning to see what caught my attention.

"Make the potion for me. I will take care of the rest. I am forbidden to leave these grounds." I started to move away from the potion's master.

"Then what will you do?" He asked after me softly, making his way to the apparition points.

"We'll talk once you get that potion for me." After that, I widened my stride and pulled my hood up.

Once I reached the small manor that housed my room and library and other creepy corridors, I turned to see if the figure followed me here, but saw no one.

**\--Slytherin--**

It had been a week passed since I talked to my idol. There had been a few Death Eater meetings here and there, but that was it when it came to the Dark Lord. I haven't seen hide of him since that early morning, considering I haven't attended the meetings.

Here I was again, at the library at an unrealistic hour of the night. Damon and Bellatrix were either cooped up near Voldemort's door or getting their beauty rest. For the past week I have been cramming as much information as I can in my overloaded head. I had to be prepared for… well for something.

Would you believe me if I said I had no idea what I was going to do when Snape finished the potion? I was at loss.

I ignored the serpent that slithered passed the book I was reading. It was the same book I was studying, The Woos of Lady Death. I was sure I wanted to do this. After all, a Slytherin is second to  _no_  one. If – no,  _when_ \- my brother got heir, I wasn't going to waste the rest of my life waiting for him to die.

" _He's watching you."_  The serpent hissed at me from the corner of my book. I ignored him and shooed him away with my hand.

The annoying serpent hissed angrily and covered my reading material with his lard body.  _"I said he's watching you."_  The forked tongue came to my nose.  _"Again."_

Irritation spread through me.  _"Leave me the bloody hell alone!"_ I shouldn't have snapped like that to my only ally in this manor, but I was into a crisis point of my book.

"Language." A voice hissed seductively from besides me.

There was that emotion again that shocked my chest to freeze in place. I snapped my head around to see a richly cloaked figure lounge in the arm chair a ways away from me.

Closing the book I stood up and made my way slowly over to the figure. Once the fright left my head, I knew it was my father. For unknown reasons, a blush came to my face as I fell to my knees and bowed my head.

Perhaps it was because I got caught talking in Parseltongue in front of him.

I felt oddly vulnerable before him. My cloak was in my room and all I had on was a simple black shirt on with ripped muggle jeans. To say it showed off my weak statue was an underestimate.

"My lord, I didn't know you were here." I answered truthfully, feeling overwhelmed with his magic soothing me.

"Of course you didn't." His voice was amused. "Just as you didn't for the past week."

Goosebumps went across my body at that statement. He was watching me all this time…

"I feel like a fool." I admitted more to myself than to him.

"Don't. If I wanted to be hidden, no one would know I was here. I chose to reveal myself to you tonight." I was utterly confused on why the man was here. And what he knew about what I've been doing… or even if he even knew me for heaven's sake.

"Rise, Harrison." His voice was oddly gentle, much different from his tone he takes at Death Eater meetings.

My head snapped up in the darkness, sure I heard him use my name. "You know me?"

He chuckled and snapped his fingers causing the room to alight with a few candles. I immediately threw my head down again in shame of my appearance. "Bellatrix has told me many things about you." He stood up from his chair and came in my direction.

This is it…. he was going to kill me for being his only 'Squib' son.

"Come, sit with me. We have much to discuss." I hesitated when I watched his feet move over to the couch and sit down. Taking a deep breath, I rose and made my way over to the offending furniture with my head down.

I sat down- mind you- far from  _him._

"She's told you?" I asked in a void voice. Of course she did, she must have had a field day with that.

"Look up at me." The voice was hard, commanding and I immediately followed that order.

My ugly green eyes met with his crimson ones. "She's told me countless of things about you, but I still don't know anything about you." A skeleton hand reached toward my chin and I reflexively reared back.

"About your green eyes and odd appearance." I watched an amused smirk appear on his face as he gazed at me with an emotion that I thought he would only reserve for Damon. Pleasure and desire. "I bet while she cursed your appearance, she never told you that I had the same green eyes when I was younger, or my dear mother had your color hair."

Voldemort knew I was starved for words of appreciation and he used it to his advance. I don't know why, but I felt this warmth sweep through me when I heard his declaration.

"You look strikingly like me when I was younger."

I felt slightly uncomfortable, despite the pride in my chest for looking like my father. It was if there was something he was holding back- bad information that he would soon break.

"I was under the impression you hated the memory of your mother." I replied bitterly, looking away from those sharp eyes.

"No." He paused. "I don't." His hand crept closer to me and I looked at it out of the corner of my eye. "But let's not talk of appearances- such a trivial thing. What I'm most interested in, is exactly  _why_ Bellatrix claimed you as a Squib when you are clearly casting spells well advanced for your age by night?"

I stood up, away from the hand and away from him. He wasn't what I imagined. He was too soft with me. I didn't like it one bit. "Don't pretend you care." I hissed at him angrily, glaring in the distance. "I know you; you have no desire to be a father or anything of the sort."

He didn't speak, but yet I could feel his amused eyes on me.

"You're supposed to be cruel and stone hearted." I whispered off the ending, hating  _this._

"You have no idea what I'm like, Harrison. You only know what Bellatrix has told you. And from experience, you should know that her word isn't always the truth." I knew he was right. "True, I am a cold-hearted bastard to others, but when it comes to my son I would like to be lenient with him."

I noticed he said 'son' and not 'sons'. It was such a small thing, but I noticed his slip.

He stood up, easily towering over me. What he did next made me replay this moment over and over again.

He grabbed my chin harshly and slammed me up against the wall. With his face bent toward my eye level, he hissed out at me. "If you even dare to  _try_ the  _Dark Descendant_ ritual, I'll cut off both your hands and kill Severus. Do you understand me?"

Of course he would know what's happening at his own manor, but still, I was shocked at hearing it come out of his mouth.

"Yes…"

With that, he let go of my face and swept away from the room. I let a smirk make its way on my face at seeing my father act like a true Slytherin.

**\--Slytherin--**

I was minding my own business, really- that's all I do most the time- when my father came striding into my small room. He took one look around the room and motioned me with a skeletal hand. "Come, I want you to move your bedroom over to my main manor." I sat on my bed, reading The Woos of Lady Death, mind you, and slammed it shut.

"Contrary to popular belief, I enjoy my bedroom. It's  _private._ " I think he would know exactly what I met when I said 'private' but it appeared he would have none of it. I watched him turn his heel and sweep out of the room like the drama king he was.

I wasn't going to follow. There was no way in hell I would leave my sanctuary and-

"Come." I was pulled off my bed by an invisible force around my neck. It was if a collar was latched around my throat- like a dog being lead by his master.

I was dragged literally across the floor with my book clutched in my grasp and my only black cloak ripping on the corner of a loose floorboard. It was only last night that my father and I talked- he didn't take long to come gather me from my safe haven and bring me to the pit of hell with my  _mother and brother._

"Get up." Voldemort hissed, yanking his wand upward; thus causing me to get on my knees while my hands hugged the ritual book closer.

"I don't want to go." I hissed through my bared teeth at the man. He looked different today… much more of a Dark Lord than last night. No amusement was present in those crimson eyes. Maybe he had to bear the presence of Damon and Bellatrix all morning.

"Come, my pet." He purred, yanking me hard this time, causing my book to fly out of my arms and at his feet.

As I watched him look at the book and point his 'leash' at it, my anger soared. After fourteen years I haven't had this much rage in my life. I knew my eyes were glowing- they always do when I feel my magic go out of control- and my hands flew out in front of me in a desperate gesture. Three things happened at once; the invisible collar was gone, my book came flying back into my hands, and my father stumbled backwards. I honestly didn't mean for the last one to happen… it just sort of did.

My breathing came out ragged and my bronze bangs fell in my eyes. Voldemort was emotionless, staring at me with his crimson eyes. Although I could easily sense the excitement flittering around him, he took an advanced step forward and clutched my shoulders.

"Squib… I'm sure you bloody well are." He whispered, walking away again. This time he didn't use his wand as a leash. "Come with me, Harrison. Now." It wasn't fun and games anymore, he meant it.

Being the weak child that I was, I followed him. Well- with his magic threatening me I accepted submissively. "Why am I moving?" I asked him as he motioned for the house elf to move my things.

He turned his cool stare on me and cocked his head to the side. "Multiple of reasons; one, you are my son- you deserve a nicer room than  _this_ , two, I get rather tired of crossing the grounds just to check up on you, and three, I want you to be close when I chose the heir."

"You mean Damon." I replied bitterly, squeezing the book I was carrying.

"Who ever says I can't choose you?" I didn't respond, or look at him. After all, I knew Damon was his chosen one. He just wanted me as a bloody slave and the descendant to pass down the heritage. My finger unconsciously caressed the book I was carrying; I was somewhat surprised Voldemort hadn't taken it away yet.

Maybe that was a sign. He didn't care if I used the ritual- if he did, he would've burned it to the crisp. Fortunately I memorized everything about the ritual, and intended to use at as soon as Snape gathered his balls and gave me the potion.

"Pull your hood up." He motioned his hand lazily at me, while continuing on his abnormally fast pace. I saw Death Eater's scattered around the manor while bowing as the Dark Lord passed, I felt invisible to them- not one of them glanced in my direction. I was the indiscernible heir.

Disappointment clutched at my chest as I pulled my hood up-

Reasoning?

I didn't know.

**\--Slytherin--**

My father left me as soon as he disposed me in my 'new room'. It was hideously large. I sneered at the rich material placed handsomely around the room and the mission furniture glossed in black. I hated it. I wished I was back in my small room with my cracked bed frame and crocked nightstand. And better yet? It was the farthest room from civilization. I should feel happy about that fact but it just proved my father wanted me invisible.

Damon's room was paces away from the entrance hallway, as was Bellatrix's. Just so he could show his perfect heir off.

I made a sickened noise in my throat as I dropped my book on the richly stitched bed sheets. Why did I even care? It was almost if I…  _wanted_ his attention, almost if I needed to see he actually thought me worthy. Never once did I feel this way with Bellatrix or Damon. I always cared for myself and kept private.

So why was my father so different?

_Because he reminds me of myself. Because I want to impress him._

Angrily running a hand through my already messy hair, I paced the long length of the room. I really didn't need a father figure in my life… even if a few days ago I admitted to myself I wanted the feeling of acceptance from  _anyone_. I shouldn't waste my time trying to impress someone who is already blinded by someone else.

My eyes roamed over to the book lying on the bed. I will do the ritual, and when I'm finished I can finally move on with my life.

Movement caught my eye and I turned to see myself in a large mirror. I sneered at it. I hated my reflection.  _His_ words whispered in the back of my head.  _"You look strikingly like me when I was younger."_ Oh, I longed to hear that from him when I was little. I dreamed of my father coming back and taking me away from the hell I grew up with. I wanted to look up to him as my idol- my hero while he looked at me like I belonged by his side…. the same way he looks at Damon.

I watched as my sneer turned into a wicked smile. Pulling back my hand, I made a slashing movement and wandlessly shattered the mirror. Even if I was a safe distance away, pieces of glass pierced my skin. My cold green eyes watched as my dark, crimson, blood swelled out of the cut and overfilled. A gentle rhythm sounded throughout the room as tiny droplets hit the wood floor.

I loved that sound…

**\--Slytherin--**

I felt his cold eyes on me as I sat unwillingly down at the table. Voldemort ordered me to come to the dinning room for dinner and I was so  _happy_ to see Damon and my loving mother there as well. Merlin… this  _is_ a  _happy_  family get together. What the bloody hell… I just feel  _happy._

Like hell I did. I felt like killing myself. After the incident with the mirror earlier today, I got this odd notion in my head that if the ritual failed to work I would like to take my own life. It's not a very Slytherin thing to do, but it felt oddly good to feel something other than a void emotion within me. I felt pain, and it felt wonderful. I don't know why I haven't tried hurting myself earlier, maybe it's because I was already facing Damon's and Bellatrix's emotional abuse.

Voldemort didn't look too happy with me, I don't know why, but I really didn't care anymore. Perhaps it's because he told me to wear those ridiculously dressy cloaks in my closest and I chose to wear my worn black cloak with frayed edges. Why not wear this? It didn't stink. In fact, it never stunk, so I don't understand why…

My rambling thoughts are interrupted by more bodies entering the room. I bit my tongue as hard as I could when I realized it was Severus, Lucius and Draco Malfoy, along with Peter Pettigrew. What a crowd. How bloody exciting. My eyes fasten over to Voldemort as I see him giving one of his small smirks. He's up to something, and I don't like not knowing what it was. In fact… my eyes go toward Damon who follows his father's act and gives his own smirk.

Oh-

This should be exciting.

I immediately notice the seating. Bellatrix was glowing at Voldemort's left hand side while Damon was placed proudly by his right side. Lucius Malfoy was sitting on Damon's right while his bloody poof of a son was sitting on  _his_ right. On Bellatrix's right sat Snape and I was lucky enough to sit to the right of Wormtail.

My chest hurt from trying not to give a bitter laugh. Well- my father surely showed me who was of higher place. And everyone here knew it. If the amused looks I was receiving wasn't enough, it was Pettigrew's awful smell. Why did I even bother to place a cleaning charm on my cloak?

Voldemort stood up. I refused to call him my father anymore, reasons being avoided at the moment since I didn't want to get all emotional. But that's right. I don't feel any emotion beside the occasional pain and loneliness.

"Thank you for coming, Lucius, Severus, Draco, and Peter." He gave a respectful nod to his  _faithful_ followers.

I gagged in my mouth. Was it possible to accidentally swallow your tongue? I guess it isn't unless it's morbidly cut from its attachments. Briefly I wondered what those attachments were called. Tongue strings? No, I knew what they were called- extrinsic muscles… I remember because a potion required three for ingredients. When I become my own Dark Lord I will experiment with that, cut off my victims extrinsic tongue muscles and watch them swallow their tongue whole.

A smirk came to my face. Maybe I can try it on Bellatrix. The bitch will serve better purposes if she didn't have a tongue to grace us all with her mocking voice. Egh. I look over her way and lock eyes with Snape. The man was emotionless but a light probe to my head made me realize he was trying to tell me something.

But I couldn't bring down my Occlumency shields. I look away from him- not really listening to Voldemort's speech. Instead I looked away into the distance with my eyes unfocused. Sometimes I can get away from my body and let myself drift off into the void of no where. It's the most peaceful place in my existence.

I know as a Slytherin I should be studying everyone sitting near me for any mishaps or mistakes they make that would result in treachery. But I really didn't care at the moment. My focus was all on the  _Dark Descendant_ ritual. I actually felt a spark of excitement for trying it. If only the bloody potion's master would hurry up with the potion and ignore Voldemort's warning. Didn't the man see the Dark Lord wouldn't care?

"And so I wish to congratulate Damon as my Dark Heir." I came back into this world and never moved an inch of my face. I knew this was going to happen, but I still felt a sharp stab go through my stomach. All my life I was second. I  _always_ craved for my father to sweep me away and give me what I deserved.

Enough self-pity.

I will get my revenge. I'm still young, only fourteen, but I know I can pull it off.

Maybe…

My eyes swivel toward Snape. Maybe Snape could fill my empty void. I know the man is very private and unemotional man, but so is my… so is Voldemort.

Speaking of the Dark Lord, I can feel his eyes bore into me. I never gave him the pleasure of meeting his gaze. Instead I clapped lightly with the rest of the occupants of the room. I saw Draco give a laugh and a un-Malfoy holler. Lucius nudged him and I felt envy for such a small thing. Even that family had a relationship.

Bellatrix was had her crazed smile on her face and she….  _winked_ at me. I saw red.

"When is the food here?" A voice whispered interrupted my anger in my ear and I turn to see Pettigrew's yellow teeth in my face. The man really did look like a rat, but despite everything, I cracked a smirk.

"I don't know, but I am rather hungry." Peter snickered at me, even when I wasn't trying to be funny, and played with his fork and spoon.

The crowd further down the table was talking happily to Damon and congratulating him. Bellatrix was making a rather rude remark about the strong blood in Slytherin and how it would be devastating if she only had me. I ignored her and watched my sickening reflection in the spoon. My eyes were too green… those were the first to go when the ritual was over.

I glared at myself- willing my repulsive eyes away. My hand tightened on the spoon in shock when I saw a change in reflection. I blinked and blinked again. They were yellow, not green. I allowed myself I small smile. Next to my hair, hopefully I would have dark red, I always desired dark red, but I couldn't now. Not in front of everyone. I had to pretend I was a Squib still for the element of surprise later on.

I jumped slightly when food magically popped in front of me. Draco gave a smirk in my direction and leaned behind his father to whisper something in Damon's ear.

My fraternal twin gave a chuckle. "Worthless Squib."

I really should work on my temper. Really… I should, considering that is another trait I inherited from Voldemort. But I lost it then. I looked at Damon from underneath my bronze bangs as he arrogantly slipped a piece of red steak into his mouth. That smirk on his face didn't belong there- the way he chewed that steak even looked repulsing.

My sneer turned into a smirk as Damon's black eyes widened and the Slytherin heir dropped his fork with a large clatter. I know I shouldn't have lost my temper- but my magic amused me by choking the brat. Damon's hands went to his throat, a universal sign for choking, and he gave a dry heave.

"Oh my!" Bellatrix stood up and hurried over to her precious son's side. She urgently patted his back while Lucius took out his wand and spelled away the steak in his throat. But that wouldn't help, he wasn't choking on his food, I was squeezing his air pipe. He continued to shake and his lips were turning white. Lucius tried another spell, but nothing came up.

An angry hissing from Voldemort ruined my concentration, and I released the hold on Damon. I quickly gave a fleeting look at the Dark Lord, but before I could distinguish any emotions, I quickly looked away at my plate. When the shock wore down from the Slytherin heir choking, I gave a smile.

"Worthless…" I purred, grabbing my wine glass. "The Dark heir can't even chew his food." I took a drink from the rich liquid and looked over the rim at Damon for good measure.

I know I'm a tease…

His cheeks turned red and before he could retort, Voldemort gave a warning tisk. "Enough."

I turned my eyes toward Snape and saw the man smirking slightly at the whole situation. Our eyes met and I smiled- a real one. Bellatrix tapped him on the shoulder and engaged him in a quiet conversation. Out of curiosity I looked over to Voldemort to see the Dark Lord gaze at Severus with an emotion I wasn't exactly sure on.

It looked like jealously or some sort of possessiveness.

Impossible, the Dark Lord never showed emotions- especially those emotions.

Curious though…

"Are you going to eat those?" Pettigrew asked with his mouth full, pointing his fork at my two potatoes.

I gazed at him, watching as his mouth moved the same way a rat nibbled on food. "No, go for it." It always amused me how something so simple can make someone happy.

Just like something as small as an embrace would make my life turn upside down.

**\--Slytherin--**

"Meet me out in the graveyard tonight." Snape murmured to me at the after dinner lounge.

You're probably wondering what the after dinner lounge is… its simply where the guests all go into the lounge and have more wine than they can handle. Including me… I get whatever I want considering no one even really sees me.

Voldemort was sitting, or rather lounging arrogantly, on a small chair in the corner. Everyone just seemed to flock around him. I wonder how he can handle that- or is it just a show? Really, it doesn't matter. Only Snape and I were away from the crowd, I was sitting down on a black leather couch while Snape leaned on the back of it. Of course, Peter Pettigrew was away from the crowd too- eating the little finger foods off the silver platter.

Snape moved from the back of my sitting area and made his way over by Pettigrew to pick up a cube of cheese. I waited, picking at my fingernails- trying to act nonchalant as I stood up and followed my Slytherin idol over to the finger food platter. I hurriedly grabbed the last cube of cheese before Pettigrew, making him sulk and go farther down the buffet line.

"You're risking a lot, Snape. Are you sure?" I knew he was talking about the ritual tonight, what else would he be meeting me for?

"I told you I would help you, I never go back on my word." His mouth barely moved- but I stared outright at him. No one had ever done anything for me. And here he was, going against the Dark Lord's order and helping me. I hated that I felt that warmth in my chest after his statement.

"Thank you." I mumbled, looking at the toothpick in my hands.

"Eleven thirty." He whispered- his face was looking away from me as he picked up a piece of cubed meat.

"Drinks?" A high pitched voice squeaked from behind Snape and me. I turned and saw a house elf carry a tray of alcoholic drinks. My eyes lit up as I reached for the biggest glass I could find. I needed it for what I was going to go through tonight.

A hand grasped my wrist, halting my movements. I looked up, thinking it Snape, but was taken back when Voldemort stood in front of me. "I think you had enough for tonight, go to bed." He ruffled my feathers as I reared away from him. I could feel his cold hand on my chin, jerking my face closer to his. "Change those hideous eyes."

"Get your hands off me." I hissed in Parseltongue, making sure no one heard me but him. "You're not my father, nor my Lord."

With that, I made a dramatic exit, making sure my cloak was blowing up behind me like I'd seen Snape's do on countless of occasions. Excitement was running ecstatic all around me, and I'm sure Voldemort noticed my aura.

Who gave a damn? The man would hopefully be at the end of my wand- feeling what I felt my whole bloody life.

**\--Slytherin--**

It was time. I hadn't even sat down since Voldemort dismissed me in the lounge. I glanced at the book sitting so innocently on my bed and grabbed it. I threw my hood up and smirked at my blood stain on the floor. Everything would go perfect. I could finish off Damon from the point I was interrupted- and cut off Bellatrix's tongue. I don't know yet what I'd do to Voldemort, but I think it will be awhile before I can face the man equally.

I opened my door a fraction and slipped out. I could tell no one was out there, but then again, I couldn't tell Voldemort was watching me for a week while I was studying. One good trait I have is my grace. I am a graceful person and my feet barely make a sound when they hit the floor.

It took awhile for me to get out the door, but it happened. I'm not stupid- I know I have to hurry if I want to do this without Voldemort knowing. Oh- I forgot to tell you my latest theory on why Voldemort wants to keep me around. He wants to somehow convert my powers to Damon- including Parseltongue. Like I would really let that happen.

The wind was barely existent when I ran down the deep steps toward the graveyard but my cloak was waving gently behind me. I had a smile on my face like that of a rebellious teenager. Although this was much more serious than what muggle teens do to their parents- I was going to get rid of mine.

I saw a figure behind a tombstone motion me over to him. It wasn't that dark out with the almost full moon out- making everything glow ethereal silver. My eyes locked with his and I gave a nod. "Do you have to potion?" My hand went out, only to feel the cool glass of a potion's vial being pressed into my skin.

"Of course- and you know how to proceed?" He was wearing a hood, but I noticed his eyes were shifty. Ah, he was nervous for Voldemort to come out.

"Yes, will you take me somewhere safe when I'm out cold?" I asked him like a vulnerable child would do to his father. I am such a starved little boy…

"Yes." Those dark eyes locked with mine, and I gave a nod.

I ran over to Thomas and Tom Riddle's grave, easily raising a bone from their casket. I pulled out a vial with Bellatrix's hair in it and gave a chuckle. This was too easy. I would finally be free…

My hands were shaking as I kneeled down on the patchy grass with a piece of white, powdery, chalk. I didn't even need to look at the book that was lying on the side lines. I knew everything by heart now. My breathing was heard as I drew the points of the star and the circle within it. I scattered the little Latin characters around the points and threw the chalk when I was finished. Snape was standing awkwardly against a concrete angel, watching me in fascination.

I dug into the bag I carried out here and hurriedly put a green, silver, black, white, and scarlet candle on each point of the star. I ran my index finger and thumb finger on the wicks and they immediately burned. I grabbed the potion vial along with the hair and bone and sat crossed legged in the circle.

With sure fingers, I crushed a piece of Riddle's bone and placed it in the potion, along with the nasty hair of the woman who gave birth to me. I swirled it around for a short period of time- holding it over one of the flames from the candle. When it bubbled I pricked my finger and put three drops of blood into the potion- no more, no less. My eyes lightened with anticipation when the potion started to steam from the open top.

"It's time." I said unnecessarily to Snape- who had now kneeled down outside the ruin.

"Good luck, My Lord." He whispered, eyes dancing with the reflection from the flames.

I gave him a crocked smile and took a deep breath. Here was the time… I would be free and ready to live my own life- without anyone holding me back. Without being second to anyone…

I tipped my head back and drank the potion.

Lord Voldemort gave a roar and ran toward me.

As I drank the potion, I could feel the veins in my arms turn cold- almost freezing. I gagged as I threw down the empty vial and my body was shaking uncontrollably. But I couldn't black out now. I needed to do the incardination.

I could see the Dark Lord running over to us, and Snape standing up to run. I felt brief betrayal as he turned to leave. But I was too far under to really comprehend what was happening. "I ask from the Descendants from below to grant me my wish… my wish to denounce my heritage."

A spell flew past me- and I heard a body hit the floor. "I denounce my unworthy parents…. I denounce…." I gagged again on the after affects of the potion. The candles around me started to flicker and wind that was never present before started to gust around me- almost eagerly.

"I denounce thee mother, Bellatrix Druella Black." Pain that I've never felt before crackled through me and I cried out. Just as I leaned forward in pain, a curse whizzed right over my head.

As I lay there… I looked up into  _his_ eyes. "I denounce thee  _father…_ " I spat out angrily, enjoying his eyes widen. Finally I was getting the attention I always desired.

" _Stupefy._ " His bone white wand pointed directly in between my eyes, and hit me right there before I could finish what I started.

Looking back, I knew I should've warded against spells. But then again- when I look back a second time, maybe I  _was_ hoping he would come before I completed the ritual.

And he did.

**\--Slytherin--**

I don't really know where I am at the moment. All I know is that I'm wet. I think its water, but I think its sweat too. Maybe it's blood or something of the other. I also know I'm shaking uncontrollably- almost falling off the soft mattress I'm lying on. Cold hands feel really good against my hot skin, they're trying to hold me down to no success.

I hear something… it sounds like a squeaking door hinge, but then I realize it matches the rapid pace of my breath. It's me. My eyes try to open- and maybe they did. All I see is black.

" _My_ child." A voice murmurs in distress from above me, it's the owner of the cold, soothing hands.

I scream.

**\--Slytherin--**

Really- I don't know how long I've been out, but I have better knowledge than I did when I was last awake. I have a fever, I know that for certain, and my body is glazed with sweat. The hands that were stroking me were Voldemort's, and I was having some sort of relapse from the ritual I did… maybe from not completing it.Or did I complete it?

I also knew I was dying. I could feel the life force dim within me. Don't think I'm not telling you the truth just to make my condition more dramatic… remember I said I'm always right? I said Damon would be named heir, and he was. So that means I really am dying.

Sometimes I catch myself calling out to random people. The more I focus, the more I realize I'm calling out for Snape. That was the first week when I was bed-ridden. After I called the man's name out, no one would come to me. A cruel voice would always say he is no longer alive, so I scream out again and thrash uncontrollably.

But after a week, I start to call for my father. Instead of being ignored when I called for Snape, I was always rewarded with either a hand on my forehead, or someone holding my hand. Soft endearments followed the caresses and I melted underneath them.

I realized when I got better that Voldemort never left my side. Ever.

**\--Slytherin--**

I opened my eyes slightly, and closed them again in fatigue. I was so tired…. and yet, I think I've been sleeping for a month now. "You're awake." A voice murmured from beside my bed. I looked to the side and was greeted with the site of my father sitting on a chair with his legs crossed and elbow resting on his knee- resting his chin on his hand.

I thought he looked ugly when he was reborn- he looked absolutely trollish now. Dark bags underneath his dim crimson eyes… he just looked horrid.

I remembered the events that had transpired before this moment, and sighed- turning my head away from him. "Look at me." His voice growled and I was forced submissively to look at him. "You are in trouble, you foolish boy." I flinched away from him, and yet I knew my face stayed passive.

"Why did you stop me?" I asked, and wasn't surprised when my voice came out hoarse from all the screaming I'd done. "Why? Why did you choose him and not me? Why did you keep me around?"

I watched as he remained blank. "You don't know what you almost did." He ignored my questions entirely.

What? Almost? "You mean… I didn't succeed?" This couldn't happen, I was  _so_ close.

"No you foolish boy!" He stood up and angrily slammed his fist on my nightstand. "You succeeded in having no mother, but you still have me." He replied mockingly. "Look at you- thinking you could complete a ritual at the age of fourteen. You could have died have I not saved you."

I tried to sit up, but failed. So I gave him my best glare. "Saved me? Like hell you saved me. I would've been better off without a mother  _and_ a father."

I blinked when I watched Voldemort collapse on his chair with his face in his hands. "How can you not see you are my heir?"

"What? You named Damon-,"

"I should've told you before hand- but I was afraid you would open your mouth." His face came up and I couldn't see any emotion. "I knew you were my chosen as soon as I saw you. Your aura sang to me, your charisma was Slytherin, you even looked like me.  _He_ was no heir, Harrison. The other boy was a set-up. I named him heir at that dinner because I knew I had a spy within one of my inner circle. By announcing my heir, I set him up as the next target; I would be able to narrow my suspicions. You see- if I named my real heir, I would be putting him in danger, I would never want that."

I realized how stupid I was. It made sense, a little surreal, but it fit perfectly.

"Is Damon…?"

"He was poisoned to death." He announced it like a weatherman would announce the weather. "I had thought the traitor was between two groups of inner circles. I had one dinner and announced it at that time. It turns out the traitor was indeed among us that night- working for Dumbledore."

I sucked in a breath and looked away from him. "Peter Pettigrew?" I asked.

"Yes."

It didn't make all that much sense… "But… couldn't you have slipped Truth Serum into their drinks that night and questioned them? Or tortured them? Or anything other than… that?"

A smirk flew on the man's lips and goosebumps appeared on my arms. "I needed a good excuse to kill him off."

"Kill Pettigrew off?"

"No- your 'brother'."

I must've looked at him oddly. "You were going to be my heir, Harrison. I knew you two didn't get along, and I don't care for anyone in the way of my heir. I as good as well killed him." He paused and looked at me with a dark sparkle. "I know what you went through growing up, my past was similar, and I wanted to make it better for you. You deserve this- you are my son, my true son. And I always protect what I  _desire_ …"

I knew he would've said 'love' instead of desire, but I know Voldemort is incapable for love. I understood the man perfectly now. He saw himself in me, and would try his damnest to give me what he never received while growing up. With him I would have a father, and he would have someone to stand by him- to finally understand him.

**\--Slytherin--**

I stood in front of the mirror, finally accepting my appearance. I looked different since the night of the ritual- considering I lost every trace I had of Bellatrix. I was taller now- but still very slim. My hair was still that same bronze color and my eyes were greener than usual. My cheekbones and Adams apple was sill pronounced, but my face seemed more… sharper. My eyebrows were thinner and my hands were very long and thin.

I looked like a pure Riddle.

I allowed my smirk to appear on my face. I was Slytherin; I was my father's heir.

I had my father's Horcrux around my neck- the Slytherin locket- and one of the family heirloom's rings on my finger. My robes were richly green and black with a small trim of silver. If you hadn't noticed yet- I was dressed up. Much more than my black cloak I still have. The reason I was dressed up?

Today was my initiation of the Dark Heir of Slytherin.

Too bad Snape and Bellatrix wouldn't be there. Snape was killed the night of the ritual- purely out of jealousy for being close to me and anger on Voldemort's half. I wasn't too happy with my father when I learned that, so I repaid him by killing off Bellatrix. Her tongue was no where to be found when they found her lifeless body outside. It irked me that my father was amused with me rather than angry.

So here I was- being all nervous about the whole thing. I shouldn't be, I always wanted this to happen, especially to rub it in the Malfoy's faces. Apart of me wanted Damon to be here still just so he could see how things turned out.

A hand placed itself on my shoulder and I looked at my father's gaze in the mirror. "You're not nervous are you?" He asked mockingly.

"Of course not, father." My heart clenched ridiculously at saying 'father'. I should ask my father to make me a Horcrux- at least some emotion would be gone by then.

But as I looked at the hand that squeezed itself on my shoulder- I knew this was like an embrace to both he and I. My life finally turned over.

I knew that together, we would be unstoppable.

 

 


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was meant to be a one-shot, but AbeoUmbra challenged me to write Lord Voldemort's point of view. Same story-line, different perspective.

 

**_ My _ ** **** ** Slytherin Descendant **

The wand slowly moved over my face once more, but I held my tongue. The Healer was only doing his job. Rather slowly, granted, but it was necessary. Alas, if there was a problem with me, I knew the man wouldn't have any idea what to do. After all, I am my own Healer.

"That will be all," I stood up, causing him to fall on his arse. I barely even looked his way as I glanced at my appearance. It was hideous, but I was the Dark Lord- there was no reason to be _pretty._

"Yes My Lord, of course." The man awkwardly crawled to his knees and touched his nose to the floor in a bow. Submission, good. It's the least I deserve for being reborn from a cauldron. My servants, if they even deserved that title, were completely undedicated. A true servant of mine would have completed my rising at a much earlier date. Surprisingly it was Pettigrew and Barty Crouch Jr. who completed my ritual. Pity Crouch was useless now.

It was time. I could feel them all in the next room, just _waiting_ to follow me into the war like blinded fools. Hide behind me like a shield. It is I who will be using them; after all, I am the Dark Lord.

Abnormally long fingers caressed my wand. It's good to have a body now, to finally complete my dreams of the wizarding world. Dumbledore and Longbottom won't stop me. No, they will be at my feet, screaming, in a matter of days. That is my vow.

I throw open the door and witness all of them staring at me like the useless fools that they were. I could feel the awe at my power but I could also feel the fear and intimidation at my features. Unguarded minds filtered across my searching eyes, but I didn't stop to read any of them. It was a waste of time.

"My followers," I whispered and noted the husky tone it sounded as. Waving a hand in dismissal, I continued. "We are finally together once again and we will rise to power just as I have tonight. Longbottom might've gotten away from me, but he will not get away next time. Together we will bring the wizarding world where it was meant to be." It was all true. Longbottom was lucky to crawl away unscratched, but next time would be hell for the boy.

I see a woman, wearing a rather unfitting smile, trot over to me and stand at my left. Immediately my memories grace me with the vision of a night fourteen years ago. Ah, this was Bellatrix Black, a woman I had fucked long ago. A useful servant, rather too eager, but nonetheless- she came from a long line of dark purebloods. My eyes nonchalantly search the crowd for a child that she could have given birth to. I was not present when she delivered but I do remember finding out she was pregnant.

There. A boy, how quaint. At least it wasn't a pathetic female. The child looked strikingly like Salazar Slytherin, right down to that arrogant smirk he was wearing. My eyes narrow. We will see…

I turn my attention back toward the crowd and realize I still needed to dismiss them. "It has been a long day, my followers. I must retire and so must you. I would like for you to keep my rise to power secret on my behalf. Let me gather my strength and we will strike with full force." Yes, it was true, I wasn't at full strength and my mind wasn't as clear as I would've liked it to be.

My servants all bowed low in submission and I bathed in the sight. After long years of studying and following along painful paths, I have finally gotten what I deserve. An army, followers, power.

I turn my heel and disappear into my chambers again. I can feel the Black woman follow at my heels and I slammed the door in her face. Sadistic pleasure ran through me. I'm not very tired at the moment, and I don't feel like sitting down to plan anything as of yet- so I decide to take a breath of fresh, cemetery air. Before I open the door, I check to hear if there was any more Death Eaters out- no. But there were two bodies, and I knew exactly who they were.

"Leave me, I will be back shortly." I pass the two who had taken residence on the ground next to my door and exited the small house. The night air stung at my face and I closed my eyes at the feel. I have always enjoyed the night; it embraces me with darkness and gives me solitude. Of course, I never let my guard down… so I felt the aura.

My crimson eyes snap open and they sought the graveyard down below me. There were two figures standing close to one another, one tall and the other rather petite. It was the small one's aura that I was attracted to- it seemed familiar… an odd familiarity that I have never remembered witnessing before.

I start to make my way down the hill toward the two. I have right to invade on their privacy; they are my Death Eater's after all. As I advance my way down, I see the smaller one notice my approach and the taller one following suit. Tempted to curse them both to the ground, I watch them instead as they part ways; one out of the wards and the other across the grounds to the caretakers shack. Interesting.

My eyes are automatically locked onto the familiar aura, I want to get close- I will get close.

But for now, I will let him feel false comfort.

** \--Slytherin-- **

I am at peace. The crystal wine goblet I hold in my fingers is full to the rim with crimson wine. A dead body is at my feet, the Healer. His blank eyes look up at me and I smile back down at him in pleasure. Nothing can be better, but alas, there is a major flaw to my tranquility.

"Isn't he just wonderful, My Lord?" I am forced to sit still and listen to the Black bitch drown on about her son, _our_ offspring. That thought makes me sneer in disgust. How could I possible think I would be able to produce a good heir with this woman?

My eyes were currently fixated on the boy, what's his name? Ah, yes, Nathanial. Or was it Damon? No matter, it wasn't an important issue.

The boy was dueling with the Malfoy heir. For my entertainment, I gather. The duel was far from entertaining, it was pure lackluster. A bore. The two were dreadfully inexperienced, but alas; the Black bitch's son knew a few curses and spells to make it bearable. He wasn't too bad, but he just didn't have that power that _leaked._ He had to force himself to the breaking point to get his power out. It was so unlike me. Perhaps with time I can train him to become better.

But even I knew that someone can't expand their natural power.

The question was; did I really want to bear the rest of my power with the boy and his mother? Was it worth the painful migraine that sprouted in my temple every time Black opened her mouth? Or when the boy spoke with a raised, arrogant, irritating, tone?

"He needs work." I respond and sip at the wine. The liquid burns down my throat and I close my eyes to the painful sight in front of me. I keep my features blank as I hear a boastful laugh coming from the boy. Apparently he just disarmed the Malfoy brat.

Bellatrix remained silent, finally. Perhaps putting a dent to Damon's pride also put a dent in her ego. I would keep that knowledge stored away.

"Of course, My Lord, but he's only fourteen, hardly of age. There is plenty of time to train him into a worthy heir." She was insulted that I would criticize the training she put the boy through when I was gone. I knew she was looking for praise on her good job rather then slighting it. I was tempted to discipline her on her sharp tongue. "But, at least he turned out better then the other one."

I leave my eyes closed and respond in a bored tone. "The other one?"

"Yes My Lord." Her voice took on a fevered pitch. Apparently she was rather excited to tell me of this issue. Legilimency was the better route than listening to her voice, but I was too relaxed to look into her mind. " _We_ had twins."

My stomach clenched in disgust at her statement; twins, what a pathetic result. They were useless, I despised twins. Just thinking of another Damon made my head throb more heavily. "Is that so?" Pure disgust made its way across my barriers.

She laughed and I cringed mentally. "Yes, but luckily they are fraternal twins- they are nothing alike. Of course, when I say nothing alike, I mean that the other… _one_ is a squib. Nasty bronze hair… and eyes so green they look pathetic. He's a runt- absolutely useless-," She went on to ridicule the other's appearance, but I was absorbing her first statement.

A Squib? I highly doubt that. _I_ would never conceive a Squib, it was impossible. A Slytherin descendant would never turn out Squib. But then I think of my mother. I never met her, but I know through my uncle's memories that she was a worthless witch. Perhaps her characteristics rubbed off the other boy. He wouldn't be a Squib, just weak- pathetic. Just thinking of another worthless conceived child made me want to kill Bellatrix- her eggs were probably already twisted due to all the interbreeding the Black family participated in.

"Yes, he _is_ a rather worthless Squib." A new voice interrupted my internal struggle to grasp the fact that I had a Squib living in my manor. My eyes slowly open to see the Black's son lounged on the step by my feet. His black eyes were sparkling madly. That damned smirk on his face irritated me. He should never be this arrogant around me.

"Where is he?" I ask. "You haven't killed him off yet without my permission, have you?" Bellatrix's face paled at my dangerous hiss and dark pleasure swept through me. _This_ is how it should be.

"No, My Lord, of course not. He's residing in the old caretaker's shack." I pause at the information, my mind creating a picture of the earlier night; the small figuring with the familiar aura entering the shack. Could it be?

I stood up, eagerly wanting to get rid of the company and also wanting to put together my first puzzle presented to me since my rebirth. "Where are you going, My Lord?" Bellatrix screeched and I sneer heavily. She was a useful follower to have, but if this continued on any longer, I would be very happy to kill her. Slowly.

"The next time you demand something of me, you will never be able to ask again. Do you understand?" I turn back toward them. An irritated hand waves and I continue on my way. "Go make yourselves useful. Now." They scrambled to their feet, all but the boy. I can feel his suspicious eyes on my back.

** \--Slytherin-- **

It is pathetic here. I can see thick layers of dust where footsteps hadn't disturbed the floor. Against the floorboards there were spiders making nests, on the walls there was water trails from the holes in the ceiling. A draft of cold air created a hollowing noise that pierced my sensitive hearing. Is this were my son resided?

My curiosity is burning in my chest, just _tasting_ the claim of victory as I uncover the mysterious boy. Of course, I will have to do this a Slytherin way. The boy won't know I will be here.

I pass a window and study my reflection, or rather lack of. It's a simple illusion- completed with a silencing charm covering my body. The boy won't know I'm here; no one would be able to know. My aura is toned down to nothing- just in case this puzzle would detect auras. I rather doubt it. Only I can detect auras, I find it rather doubtful if Bellatrix created a boy with aura reading. After all, Damon and this… riddle were twins.

The floorboards would be creaking as I step on them, but alas, I make them stay still. My weight leans on the floor as I take another step and I freeze as I hear a solid screech. Impossible, I-,

A sick smile spread across my lips as I look to my right were the library was placed. And I _see_ the puzzle. I see the back of the other twin. His small shoulders are hunched over a table and a low burning candle dances next to him. He appears to be studying.

I make my way closer, right behind him, and I close my eyes to inhale him, his aura, his everything. He is no Squib, he's mine. I can tell right away that he is no fraud; he is the true Slytherin Heir. The scent is plastered all over him; the pure darkness surrounds him and plays with my senses. Crazy desires rush through me but I calm myself. I need patience, something I find hard to grasp at times- but this is important, I must observe first.

I move away from his back and make my way to the front of him, to study every inch of him. His cloak is tattered and worn, but that's the farthest thing I need to think of at the moment. I do notice his appearance though, and it surprises me how much the boy looks like my younger self. It's as if I'm looking into a mirror from the past. Everything from the sharp cheekbones and pronounced handsome features are mine. Alas, he does not have jet black hair; instead he has bronze, my mother's hair color. And his frame is much smaller than mine, he appears to be starved.

Hungrily, I watch him for what seems like hours, but I know it is only seconds. But seconds are forever to me. I have never been taken by another like I am now. I watch his habits and his teeth nibbling his bottom lip as he frowns into the text. A deep sigh escapes his rather plump lips and his eyes rise to lock with mine. I'm barely a hair away from his face and I become completely captivated by his eyes… _my_ eyes. They are mine, were mine. The vivid green isn't what makes me think of my own, it's the dark shadows in them- the wisdom they hold for someone so young.

He has experienced pain and life. He knows what manipulation is, what abuse is, he knows that people are just fragmented objects that you cannot trust- he has experienced hell.

I want to reach out and run a finger down that cheek, but I resist. After all, I wouldn't want to give away my position. I want to be able to drink as much as I can of him when he doesn't realize it.

" _Master, he's coming."_ My eyes narrow as the snake slithers on the boy's desk. Snakes can see through me, I know, but must they ruin my fun?

The boy tenses and its then when I realize the snake wasn't talking to me, but the boy, my boy. My son was a Parselmouth. Pride swept through me, he was a true Slytherin. I know my weakness is to take possession of things completely if they interest me- to take trophies, and it's the same with my heir. I want him to be mine, only mine, and I know that will cause my downfall someday if I don't dance smartly.

My thoughts are turned toward the boy as he hurriedly packs his notes away and puts them in his pockets. _"Hurry!"_ The snake hisses and my heir waves his wand and the books lying on the table fly back to their spots on the dusty shelves. The room plunges in complete darkness as the candle goes out, but I can clearly see. My eyes followed my son as he quickly walked across the room, being careful and stepping on the floorboards that he knew wouldn't creak. Just as he ducked around the corner, I see a dark shadow enter the room.

"Harrison." A voice sings and I sneer. It's _her_ son. Oh, he will pay for ruining my fun.

Harrison. That's my puzzle's name, but he in no longer a puzzle in my eyes, because he is just like me.

"I know you're here." Jealousy spread across the boy's voice and I knew he was expecting to see me here talking with Harrison.

I make my way out the room, past her son and leave him there- in the dark.

** \--Slytherin-- **

Now that I'm not drugged on my heir's aura and presence, I can think clearly. I want him beside me, standing with me as we go against the fools. We will conquer them all and on the way, we will make the wizarding world stronger… destroy it and we will build it from the ashes. Citizens will cower at our feet.

I know that I could do it by myself along with my Death Eaters, but I want someone beside me. Someone to pass down my knowledge and someone I can _trust_ completely. Trust was such an issue with me, considering the fact that I smell all the lies around me. I know there is someone within my inner circle spilling out my secrets- there is a traitor. Traitors may be worthless scum, but they are dangerous. I don't know whom it is, but I will find out.

I need to protect my plans until I catch the traitor. And I need to protect my true heir. Harrison would be in danger if the traitor found out about my real interest in the boy. Manipulation was the name of the game now, and I was the master of deception. There would be deaths, but all the necessary ones- I will not feel pity if they come to play. Death is such a beautiful thing in my eyes- that is why I want to torture the traitor. Death is something I grant when I feel merciful.

** \--Slytherin-- **

I've been watching him for days now. Every night, after my meetings with the Death Eaters, I come down to the broken shack and watch my heir. I am proud of his magical aura but I am also furious. Why? Simply because I have found out what his plans are. He wants to use the _Dark Descendant_ ritual, a dangerous ritual that erases one's true parental traits. If he does this, he will no longer have a Slytherin claim, he might think he will, but if he denounces me, he will become merely a muggle- and _I_ will have no sense of claim on him.

Why does he have to be so foolish? He's stubborn and proud, that much I know- but he's also impatient, a trait he inherited from me. If he would just _wait_ and sit tight, he will find out that I am only distancing myself from him for his own safety. I don't _want_ her son, I want him.

Perhaps, I should give him something to think about? To pause and sit tight for a few more days until my trap closes its jaws around the traitor's ankle.

I nod toward the serpent and it uncoils from around my wrist. My faithful little creature slowly twined its body up the leg of the table and hissed its warning. _"He watching you."_ I watched as my heir remained stoic. _"I said he's watching you."_ The serpent slid the rest of the way on the table and shot out a forked tongue to caress Harrison's nose. _"Again."_

" _Leave me the bloody hell alone!"_ It's the first time I have ever heard him speak. His voice is raw and husky from the lack of use.

"Language." I drop my illusion and remain stoic as my heir whirls around. He seems shocked but then recovers quickly as he shuts his book and lands on his knees in a bow. I survey his outfit with a sneer upon my thin lips. He looks like a damned muggle.

"My lord, I didn't know you were here." I allow my magic to caress him; after all, I can't help but to feel competitive when I feel his own aura. His statement registers in my mind and I smirk. Silly boy, you would've never known.

"Of course you didn't." I allow my thoughts to come out in my speech. "Just as you didn't for the past week." I know he's frightened and confused, but I don't care. What matters is that I am talking to my heir finally.

"I feel like a fool."

"Don't. If I wanted to be hidden, no one would know I was here. I chose to reveal myself to you tonight." The confusion overwhelmed me and I couldn't stand seeing the bowed figure on the floor any longer. "Rise, Harrison." It surprises me how gentle my tone is, but the more I think on it, the more I realize I shouldn't be a bastard toward my own heir.

I watch him raise his head in suspicion. "You know me?" Oh, my dear boy, of course I know you.

I want a better look at him. I snap my fingers, causing the room to alight but he lowers his head as if shamed of his appearance. Harrison, my sweet heir… "Bellatrix has told me many things about you." I stood up from my chair and walked toward Harrison's hunched over position. I can almost feel the different scenarios flying through his head right now. How much had Bellatrix told me- you want to know? "Come, sit with me. We have much to discuss." I walk back toward the two seated couch and sat down. My eyes are nonchalant as I see him rise hesitantly and sit far from me, with his head bowed.

I suppress a sigh. Bellatrix's abuse may not have been physical but it was mentally. I would have a lot of work on my hands to create a strong, confidant, heir. Alas, I know there is confidence hidden deep down in the boy's petite body- I just have to lure it out.

"She's told you?" His voice is void and completely emotionless. I mentally applaud at that. He doesn't hold fear toward me, which is a step in the right direction.

"Look up at me." There, I finally show my true side to the boy as my voice came out commanding. He immediately raised his head and I was met with those beautiful green eyes. "She's told me countless of things about you, but I still don't know anything about you." I finally sucked up my own courage to reach out my skeleton hand and touch him, but he reared back as if stung. I continue on as if he didn't just sting my pride.

"She told me about your green eyes and odd appearance." I allow my true emotions to wash through my face and he studies it with thoughtfulness. It is simply pleasure and desire, but he acts as if it were the most alien emotion he had ever seen. I began to second guess my approach to him. "I bet while she cursed your appearance, she never told you that I had the same green eyes when I was younger, or my dear mother had your color hair."

I know he hungers for words like this, correct? I was the same when I was younger, I always hoped for a father figure to step in my life and claim me. But that never happened. Now I use that on Harrison and I know it works. I see his face become clear again and I utter the finalizing sentence that would hook him in.

"You look strikingly like me when I was younger."

"I was under the impression you hated the memory of your mother." His voice is bitter, not the reaction I was expecting. He's right though, I hate my mother- such a weak thing.

"No." I pause. Apparently Harrison isn't the exact person as I thought him to be. What a fool I've been for thinking the boy would look up at me with admiration and acceptance just because I claimed he looked like me. "I don't." My hand twitched toward him again but I kept myself at bay. All I wanted to do was take hold of the boy and tell him the truth. That he was _my_ heir, not the other one.

Now it was time for a different tactic. "But let's not talk of appearances- such a trivial thing. What I'm most interested in, is exactly _why_ Bellatrix claimed you as a Squib when you are clearly casting spells well advanced for your age by night?"

I watch as he stands up away from me and I have to calm myself down. No use punishing the boy yet. "Don't pretend you care." He _hissed_ at me and I suppressed a smirk. "I know you; you have no desire to be a father or anything of the sort." I just watch him in amusement. "You're supposed to be cruel and stone hearted." His heated tone tapers off and with that I become rather out of sorts. Harrison isn't someone I can play with, I should've realized that when I noticed his eyes- the hardships in them.

"You have no idea what I'm like, Harrison. You only know what Bellatrix has told you. And from experience, you should know that her word isn't always the truth. True, I am a cold-hearted bastard to others, but when it comes to my son I would like to be lenient with him." I said truthfully and stood up. Sick pleasure laced through my being when I noticed how much I towered over him.

And then I struck out. He wasn't expecting this and quite frankly, either was I. I slammed him against the stone wall and grabbed his delicate chin in my hand. That is the first time, in a long time, since I have touched skin… and it wasn't just any skin, it was my sons. I bent my head down to make sure his eyes were level with mine. I need to get my points across. "If you even dare to _try_ the _Dark Descendant_ ritual, I'll cut off both your hands and kill Severus. Do you understand me?" And my threat was absolutely true and not boastful.

His eyes widened but then he turned back to the stoic child I was used to seeing. "Yes…"

Not in the least bit satisfied at his answer, I turn my heel and leave anyway. I can feel my son's gaze drilling a hole in my back.

** \--Slytherin-- **

Its time to plan this. It is time for it to unravel. I want my son on my side, now.

"You will of course be named Heir, Damon." My voice is completely void and so is my face when Black laughs manically. Her hands pat her son's arms generously while the boy smirks knowingly. "Yes, we will be announcing this at dinner tonight with my inner circle, I expect you keep it quiet until then, understood?" He nods and I stand up.

"Of course, father." I pause at this- it's disgusting. Out of the boy's lips its nothing I ever want to hear again- but- I can vividly see my son standing there, green eyes looking up at me and saying 'father'. It does not bother me. "Will Draco be invited? He's my best mate."

"There is no such thing as friends, boy." I snap and make my way down my raised throne. I need to get this over with, I cannot stand this. Within seconds these two would be dead, but alas, I needed them in order to reveal the traitor. I hope its Snape; in fact, it does not matter if it is the man or not- I will kill him anyway for becoming involved with _my_ heir. I'm curious to know how Harrison will react when he learns of Snape's death.

"I… I understand father." I stop and whirl around to look down at the boy. Such a disgusting creature.

"It's _My Lord_ , to you." My hand reaches out to squeeze the boy's cheeks together. His skin isn't cold like Harrison's yet it's flushed and full of life. Pathetic. "We need to work on your verbal responses. Not only that, we need to improve your dueling skills- they are pitiable." My hand drops like it's full of venom.

I whirl around and cross the grounds to my son.

** \--Slytherin-- **

He isn't in the library when I arrive so I'm forced to go look for him. It's not long before I find his pathetic excuse for a room. He's reading- the same book I ordered him to stay away from. "Come, I want you to move your bedroom over to my main manor." He slams the book shut and looks up at me in boredom. Mind you, it's the first time _anyone_ has looked at me in such a way. After all, I am the Dark Lord.

"Contrary to popular belief, I enjoy my bedroom. It's _private._ " I ignore him. He will be moved whether he will like it or not. I turn my heel, knowing he will follow.

How wrong I was. I turn my head to see him still upon his bed, clutching the book close. Why was it always ordeal with Harrison?

"Come." I pulled out my wand and jerked it toward my son. I couldn't help that same sick pleasure I felt earlier seep through me as I pulled him across the floor. I was in control now. And I _loved_ it. "Get up." I hissed, motioning my wand upward, causing Harrison to get on his knees.

"I don't want to go." He bares his teeth like the Slytherin heir he was, but I smirk- not in the least bit intimidated.

"Come, my pet." I yanked the invisible leash harder and his book soars out of his arms and lands at my feet. I resist the urge to set it on fire, that damned book is the reason why he's resisting me so much.

I down up at him, only to falter. His aura was singing louder than it had ever before and his eyes seemed to glow. In seconds the book at my feet was back in his hands, my spell was cancelled around his neck, and I was pushed backwards. How dare that little brat? Push me?

I study him through hooded eyes, yet I cannot help but to swell in yearning. My feet never make a sound as I come closer to my son. His face was flushed and his breathing became ragged. His green eyes were looking up at me with pure determination. I place my hands on his shoulders and lean my lipless mouth close to his ear. "Squib… I'm sure you bloody well are." I whispered and my nose inhaled the scent of him. He was mine.

I step back, tearing myself away from my own carbon copy. "Come with me, Harrison. Now." I am tired of this game I am dancing around. I want Harrison now and I want her son out of the picture. I know he's following me, so I don't bother to turn around and become captivated with those eyes.

"Why am I moving?" He asks me, and I motion toward the boy's room and a house elf starts to pack his things. We make our way out of the old shack and out to the crisp grounds.

I look at him this time and control myself when his eyes sought my own. He was always so stoic and curious. "Multiple of reasons; one, you are my son- you deserve a nicer room than _this_ , two, I get rather tired of crossing the grounds just to check up on you, and three, I want you to be close when I chose the heir."

"You mean Damon." I look at him and see him become tense and bitter. Oh, my heir…

"Who ever says I can't choose you?" I try to give him a hint, to make him _see_ he is the Slytherin heir. Why does he not understand he's better then his brother? Perhaps Bellatrix ruined him more than I thought? But alas, I can fix that broken poise.

My eyes look at the book he's holding like a lifeline. It will do no good to take it away from him. It wouldn't make a difference, considering I have watched him take many notes on the ritual- I'm sure he has it stored in that confused mind of his.

We get closer to the manor and I turn to look at his quiet form. "Pull your hood up." I wave my hand in his direction, placing a disillusionment charm over him- without his knowledge. I turn back around and don't spare another glance in his direction. The Death Eater's don't notice him as we pass and I am pleased at that. My heir will be safe for the time being.

** \--Slytherin-- **

I am completely in my role. My smirk is secretive, my hands are playing with the stem of my wine glass, and my eyes are taking in everyone at the table. Everyone. Lucius Malfoy, Draco Malfoy, Bellatrix Black, Severus Snape, Damon Black, Peter Pettigrew, and of course my son, Harrison Riddle. They all appear perfectly calm now, but I know one of them is the traitor, all but Harrison of course. I'm watching him for an entirely different reason.

He seems to be rather irritated at being here, I can't blame him. I would never hold a dinner with _people_ if it were any other occasion. But something else was bothering him, and I wanted to know what it was. His eyes seemed distant and he sat completely still. He was going to do something desperate; I had to keep my eye on him.

I stood up, and brought everyone's attention on me. As it should be. "Thank you for coming, Lucius, Severus, Draco, and Peter." I nod to them and they nod respectively back at me. "It's been a long time since we have seen the future of the wizarding world upon the horizon, but it's closer now. Within our grasp. Soon we will have the world at our feet; we will build our world back to where it belongs. But I wish to have a successor beside me, and so I wish to congratulate Damon as my Dark Heir." There were polite claps after my statement but my eyes were directly on my son.

Harrison was sitting still, his face not moving any inch- save for his hands which were clapping along with the rest of them. He was numb and hurt, I knew that. But this was for his own good because come tomorrow, I knew Damon would be dead- if the places were reversed and I _did_ name my true heir, I would be looking at the dead face of Harrison. Of course, if I wanted to stop the murder of Damon, I could- but I didn't feel the need to keep the boy around.

Pettigrew leaned over to whisper something in Harrison's ear and they both smirked. I didn't know what that worthless rat had to say to my heir in order for him to crack a smirk; Harrison never showed any emotion like that around me. Lucius is engaging me in a conversation, but I'm not listening to him. Instead, my eyes watch _him_ intentionally. He's off in his own world again, staring at his damned spoon. What could be interesting in his own reflection?

The food appears and Harrison seems startled over such a feat. Perhaps the boy had never been at a formal dinner? "Look at him, startled by magic." The Malfoy brat whispers across to Black's son.

The boy smirks and murmurs, "Worthless Squib." I watch as Harrison clenches his fists and narrows his eyes dangerously at the boy. I find it amusing that Harrison inherited my temper because the next thing that I notice is that Harrison is magically choking Damon. The guests all think that Damon is choking on a piece of steak but I know better- and the boy is _foolish_. How could he? He is putting himself in the spotlight. What if they found out he wasn't a Squib?

I hissed, staring intentionally at him. As I suspected it ruined his concentration but he never looked at me. His eyes were locked on Damon's and he reached smartly for his goblet of wine. "Worthless…" He _purred._ "The Dark heir can't even chew his food." He took a sip and looked over the rim at Damon- it was purely mocking.

I look at him then and I see a future Dark Lord. But from his actions I sense jealousy. He's jealous of Damon that he was named heir. I mean something then, despite the fact that Harrison seemed completely unfazed at my attention in the library that night- he _does_ crave me, my attention. And that's something I find absolutely exhilarating.

Black's son because red in the face. I know he will try to invoke Harrison again, so I interrupt. "Enough."

I take my wine goblet to sip on the soothing liquid. As I look over the brim, I spot Harrison share a knowing look with Snape. And then I see a true smile spread across my son's face. It's not directed at me. No, it's directed toward Snape. A Death Eater.

Raw jealousy flushes through my system and my fingers clench around the goblet. All my mind comes up with is the multiple ways Severus Snape can die. I'm so wrapped up in my inner turmoil that I don't notice my son's eyes land on me.

** \--Slytherin-- **

They're all talking around me, cheerfully, mind you. My migraine is slowly starting to take over my thinking and I sit there calmly in my chair. My face if void, my eyes are void, but my thoughts are twirling every direction. I want this to be over with, this whole _dinner_ thing. My followers think this is a new development ever since I came back from the spirit world- me, having parties with my servants… what in Merlin's name do they take me as? They are my _servants_ not my comrades. They will be at my feet; withering in pain the next time they crack a joke in my presence. This will all be over shortly- and in the end, I will have Harrison completely in my possession, the traitor gone and surely Severus Snape will be ten feet under.

I'm not too sure how many glasses of wine I have had, but it helps numb the pain of the other's presence. Alcohol doesn't affect me much, so I don't worry about not being coherent in order to follow out my plans. In fact, I already know who the traitor is. Peter Pettigrew. I watched him nonchalantly pour poison in Damon's drink. No one ever watches him; no one would ever catch him- except for me.

I know I could've prevented Damon from raising his goblet and drinking the poison, but instead, I watched gleefully. The child would be dead before the morning.

Now I was watching my heir out of the corner of my eye. I watched for Peter's wondering fingers as he inched closer to Harrison, but he didn't put anything in my son's drink or food. I'm also watching Severus converse with him… they're planning something. I can see my heir's shoulder's perk up and his mouth is mumbling softly to the potions master. It had better not be what I think it is.

I stand up and brush past the guests toward my son. A house elf is offering the boy another drink but before the child gets a chance to reach out to grab it- my hand encircles his wrist. His eyes look up at me and I falter, they are no longer green but an ugly yellow. "I think you have had enough tonight, go to bed." It came out harshly and I had to grab the boy's chin to bring him closer to me. "Change those hideous eyes."

" _Get your hands off me."_ He hisses and I become aroused hearing my native tongue being used by my son. _"You are not my father, nor my Lord."_ The words shouldn't affect me in the least, but they do. After Harrison leaves, I look up at Snape and give him a sneer. He blanches and tries to turn out the room but I shot out my hand and grip his shoulder.

"I don't know what you think you're doing with my son, but it will stop. If you even _think_ of turning him against me, you will be killed." My yellow nails are digging into his skin but he's being a good Slytherin and pretends he doesn't feel it. But my warning is true; I just hope he realizes it.

He gives a sharp nod. "Yes My Lord."

"I don't think you do understand." I whisper huskily. "He is _mine._ Not yours." His eyes dig into my gaze and I hold him there.

When he leaves the room, I stand there. I don't like feeling these emotions. Possession and jealousy. I don't like feeling any emotions, but I understand that I have an heir now and I need to treat him decently. And with that comes humane emotions. But Harrison isn't at all like a child of fourteen is supposed to be. No, he has a tough exterior but I know, inside, he craves me just as much as I crave him.

** \--Slytherin-- **

"Please My Lord, I don't understand…" Pettigrew whimpered pathetically.

I'm at peace right now.

Everyone is gone.

I'm sitting upon my solid throne.

The Black bitch's son is lying dead on the floor.

And I don't have any feelings.

In my right hand lays my wand and my fingers caress it gently. My gaze is completely locked on the rat in front of me. Apparently he doesn't understand… well, I will just have to show him, won't I? "Look to your right. Tell me…" I purr, narrowing my eyes. "What do you see?"

The sniveling fool twitches as his eyes land on the still form of Damon Black. He made a pathetic noise in his throat and I loose my cool mask. "What do you see?" I snap, pointing my wand at him.

His eyes bulge at seeing the wand. "I… I… it's your heir, My Lord. He's dead."

"Really?" I make a show of looking over at the body. "How can that be, Pettigrew?" He shakes his head heatedly. "How can that be my heir when it looks nothing like him?" Pettigrew stills and looks uncertainly over at the dead body. My smirk grows larger. "You see, Peter, that is not my heir. Harrison is my true heir."

"W-what?"

Tisking, I wave my wand at the fool. " _Crucio_." The screams are music to me, they bring me alive. "I'm afraid you've killed the wrong Slytherin, Pettigrew." He whimpers in between gasps of air and then screams again. Oh, now _this_ is art. I can just see his veins and arteries bulging with pressure- my, wouldn't it be pretty if one burst?

" _My Lord!"_ A snake slithers inside the room but it doesn't ruin my concentration… what will break first; the rat's mind or his veins? _"My Lord, your hatchling is out of the manor! He went against your wishes."_ And that shattered my focus. Apparently _I_ broke before the man at my feet. How pathetic.

But I do not have time to dwell on the fact. Before long I'm essentially running toward the exit. _"Bite him."_ I hiss over my shoulder. Even if Pettigrew finds the strength to get away, he will not go long with my serpent's venom inside his body. And that brings satisfaction to me.

Alas, I am not satisfied at the moment. My heir is stubborn and foolish. How does he think he can complete this ritual? It won't happen. Because I won't let it.

The cool air rushes past me as I sprint toward the graveyard, I can see them. My son is on the ground- surrounded by the ruins and Snape is standing off to the side. And then I see Harrison tip his head back to drink the potion that binds him to the Descendants from below. I don't understand what it is about Harrison, but I want him. I want him beside me… and at that moment, I didn't care what I looked like or if anyone saw me-

But I roar.

And then I desperately point my wand at the distant figures. Through my hazy vision, I watch as Snape turns his heel and runs away. Bringing my wand down like an ax, the Avada Kedavra jets out and embraces Snape like a second skin. I don't dwell too long on this because I hear Harrison denounce Bellatrix. Successfully.

I throw a stunner straight at him, but he bends over in pain as the ritual magic runs through him and the spell misses completely. His glowing yellow eyes look up at me then and I come to stop. Never before has shock paralyzed my body, but it did the moment he uttered the next words. "I denounce thee _father_ …" But he pauses and I take my turn.

My wand rises again and I watch as a silly smile blossoms over my son's face. _"Stupefy."_ The magic hits directly between his eyes and he falls back. I stand pathetically and look down at him. His skin is glowing oddly and his features are slowly altering.

But that's not what my mind is assessing. I noticed he didn't put a shield up around himself. And I noticed he denounced Bellatrix before me. And he had paused when I froze stupidly.

Perhaps, he had wanted me to stop him? He wanted to be proved wrong of his theory of me.

Harrison has a crazy desire of having a true father.

But it's not at all crazy when I want to have a true son.

** \--Slytherin-- **

He's sick and in pain from the ritual magic. Half of it is because he didn't complete it correctly and also because he was successful in detoxifying half his DNA. Sweat is layering his skin and his mouth is trembling with nonsense words. There is nothing I can do when the ritual is at work. He has a fever, but all I can do is keep cold compression on his forehead.

I know I should be away from his bedside and at Death Eater meetings, but I called them off until a later date. The wizarding world has waited thirteen years; it can wait for another week.

Truthfully, this frightens me. Emotions, I mean. I _feel_ something for Harrison- and it's both disgusting and powerful at the same time. Disgusting because my soul is already split so much that it's unfathomable to feel anymore… but I do feel. And for the first time I realize that the old fool Dumbledore may not be so crazy. This… this… _love_ …makes me feel superior- it makes my magic alive. It's difficult to comprehend, something I know I wouldn't find in a text book to help me out. So I will have to go along with it for now.

My hand is sliding comfortingly down his sweaty cheek and my eyes are studying the rising and falling of his chest. Earlier, he had started calling for Snape of all people. I accepted the burning jealousy that inflamed my chest- and I acted childish. I told him through his fevered state that Snape has died, he is there no longer. The only regret I had was that I never got the chance to play with Severus before he died.

And then. He called out for me.

His lips parted and he whispered 'father'. It was different from the time Damon used it. I accepted it… I welcomed Harrison's delirious endearments and gave him some in return. I whispered the endearments, mind you- but I also caressed his face and held his hand to try to comfort his pain and loneliness.

I felt like a damned Dumbledore.

Harrison stirs and my hand rears back. He will awaken, I know.

I move to the chair and rest tiredly in it. I may be immortal, but I am tired. Through hooded eyes I see him awaken. "You're awake." I state the obvious. His head turns to assess me. Those eyes are back to green- the color they should be. He becomes flushed and turns away from me.

Now, this won't do. "Look at me." His eyes turn back to me submissively. "You are in trouble, you foolish boy." His face stayed perfectly still. Good boy.

"Why did you stop me?" His voice cracked due to the screaming he had done earlier. "Why? Why did you choose him and not me? Why did you keep me around?"

Again, foolish boy. He should know by now that I didn't choose the other boy. I ignore his demand and focused on the topic at hand. "You don't know what you almost did."

He seemed appalled at that. "You mean… I didn't succeed?" Anger flushed through me.

"No you foolish boy!" I stood up and angrily slammed my fist on my nightstand. "You succeeded in having no mother, but you still have me." Mocking filtered across my tone. "Look at you- thinking you could complete a ritual at the age of fourteen. You could have died have I not saved you." That isn't true. He could've survived… he would've completed it if I stalled any longer to get to him.

His glare didn't faze me in the least. "Saved me? Like hell you saved me. I would've been better off without a mother _and_ a father."

Fatigue rushes through me and I sit back in my chair. Uncharacteristically, I place my face in my hands and ask softly, "How can you not see you are my heir?"

"What? You named Damon-,"

"I should've told you before hand- but I was afraid you would open your mouth." I look at him. "I knew you were my chosen as soon as I saw you. Your aura sang to me, your charisma was Slytherin, you even looked like me. _He_ was no heir, Harrison. The other boy was a set-up. I named him heir at that dinner because I knew I had a spy within one of my inner circle. By announcing my heir, I set him up as the next target; I would be able to narrow my suspicions. You see- if I named my real heir, I would be putting him in danger, I would never want that."

I see realization spread across his face.

"Is Damon…?"

"He was poisoned to death." I wave my hand with disinterest. "I had thought the traitor was between two groups of inner circles. I had a dinner and announced it at that time. It turns out the traitor was indeed among us that night- working for Dumbledore."

He sucks in a breath and looks away. "Peter Pettigrew?" Good, he was observant.

"Yes."

He looked confused and I bit back a nasty retort. "But… couldn't you have slipped Truth Serum into their drinks that night and questioned them? Or tortured them? Or anything other than… that?"

I smirked. "I needed a good excuse to kill him off."

"Kill Pettigrew off?" Silly…

"No- your 'brother'." Again, he was confused. Must I explain everything? We will work on that. "You were going to be my heir, Harrison. I knew you two didn't get along, and I don't care for anyone in the way of my heir. I as good as well killed him." A pause. "I know what you went through growing up, my past was similar, and I wanted to make it better for you. You deserve this- you are my son, my true son. And I always protect what I _desire_ …"

I wasn't ready to say love; I don't think I will ever be ready to use that word out loud. But I think he understands everything now. His eyes are knowing as they look at me and not for the first time, I see myself in his eyes.

** \--Slytherin-- **

I am standing in the doorway to his room. I can't help the pride that spreads through me as I see him looking in the mirror. He looks like me. Exactly like me- save for the hair and statue. Ever since the ritual, he lost the last of his round features and acquired all of my aristocrat appearance- everything seemed more pronounced. His fingers are long and thin now… they are playing with my Horcrux around his fingers. The Slytherin ring and the Slytherin locket glimmer back at me tauntingly. Harrison knows what they are and I feel safe with them in his possession. I wish to make him one. Just _one_.

The other day, I found Bellatrix Black sprawled out over the graveyard. Her mouth was pried open. As I looked in the deep cavern, I see the absence of a tongue. Amusement flooded me and I chuckled. My son has creativity… perfect. I wasn't disappointed in the bitch's death; after all, I killed his precious Snape. An eye for an eye; what a perfect Dark Heir he will make.

I step forward, directly behind him and I can smell his apprehension. "You're not nervous are you?" I'm amused. Today, soon, I will announce his presence to all my followers. He will be known as my Dark Heir.

"Of course not, father." He lies, but I will let it pass. My hand lands on his shoulder where it belongs. His tattered black cloak is finally gone and in replace are richly sewn green robes. He looks handsome. He looks like my younger self.

Again, I look at the Horcrux around my heir's neck and feel rather comforted with its place. Harrison will protect it- and even if, somehow, it gets destroyed, my legacy will live on in my son.

**_ The End _ **


End file.
